


Eyes on the Sky

by tianhuo



Category: LCS, League of Legends RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 06:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10183049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tianhuo/pseuds/tianhuo
Summary: Jensen really, really wants to get to sleep.





	

“Hey, Jensen…”

 

The low, hushed whisper startles you a bit-- you’re a little pissed that he decides to say something right when you’re about to fall asleep, but it’s alright, you suppose. You’ll get to sleep eventually-- and there’s no reason to rush.

 

You turn over to look at him, the light of the moon seeping in through the cracks of the shutters on your window, illuminating his bronze-gold hair. If it weren’t so dark, you’d bet you could see the ethereal blue of his irises, too.

 

“What?” You whisper back. You’re not sure why the two of you are whispering. The walls are thin, sure, but nobody is going to wake up from your conversation.

 

“Where does Fizz’s shark in his ult come from? Like, why can he just summon a shark?”

 

You groan.

 

“Sneaky, please,” you articulate in between your facepalming, “not this again.”

 

“Can you just answer the question?”

 

“Go to fucking sleep,” you dismiss, taking one of the pillows behind you and pressing your face into it, hushed screams escaping your mouth. You don’t really feel the need to do it, but you want to make him laugh-- and he does. 

 

You can hear him shift around-- the cover moves, entangling your body within the creases and crinkles. You should probably fix it in the morning.

 

There is a moment of silence.

 

“What do you think is at the bottom of the ocean?”

 

You remove your pillow to stare at him-- he’s staring at the ceiling, oblivious. 

 

“Some sea creature,” is all you say. You said it purely for the case of shutting him up and, simultaneously, entertaining him-- but to be honest, you are being kind of… honest.

 

_ There is probably some sick fucking sea creature at the bottom of the ocean,  _ you affirm to yourself.

 

Another moment of silence passes between you. You hear nothing-- you think that, possibly, maybe even the crickets outside had gone to sleep. The only two awake in the entire state of California is the two of you.

 

“Do you think--”

 

“Oh my god, Sneaky,” you cut him off from saying anything further, your voice strained with agitation and tilt, “listen. Sneaky. I really like you. In fact, I love you-- but-- you cannot be doing this shit every other night. Please just go to sleep.”

 

All body movement has frozen. The discussion ceases. And you begin to feel a bit bad.

 

Then, suddenly, a voice emerges from the silence, “You love me?”

 

You open your mouth to reply-- not a thing he can see, obviously-- and then shut it, searching for the words, playing back the moment to confirm that you did, in fact, say that.

 

“... Yeah,” you breathe, suddenly, “I do.”

 

You envision him opening his mouth to speak-- not a thing you can see, of course-- and then he shuts it, trying to figure out how to reply. 

 

And then it’s warmer, and then-- his lips are on yours. They’re soft in comparison to yours-- which are uncharacteristically chapped a bit-- but you get the sense that he doesn’t mind. It’s not the first time the two of you have done this, slipping in and out of dark and starry romances during the night and early morning-- as his tongue slips in and out of your mouth.

 

And what a gift it is-- to pull away and open your eyes to the two brightest and most stunning stars of them all.

 

He turns away, smile tugging at his lips. “So that’s why you’ve put up with my shit all this time.”

 

You snort. “Duh. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

 

Now it’s his turn to snort. He turns and snuggles right up into your arms. “You’re the lucky one.”

 

Your arms wrap around his body-- maybe it’s just his body heat, but you feel something warm crawl up your neck-- all the way up from the bottom of your chest. Outside, you can see, through the tiny little cracks on your window shutters-- two stars twinkling brightly amongst the void of the sky.

 

“You bet I fucking am,” you say, and you are home.


End file.
